


You're My Type

by Honey_Bee80



Series: You're My Type Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel, Alternate Universe, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Bee80/pseuds/Honey_Bee80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean flipped the collar of his jacket up and stepped out of the car.  At least the rain had slowed to a fine mist.  He rushed up to the glittering revolving doors, head down, and did not see the person coming out of the rotation until he plowed into him.  A briefcase crashed onto the wet pavement and the other man dropped the umbrella he had partially opened..<br/>Who the hell had actual eyes that color?  Apparently this dude. Who he was staring at and had been for several seconds, like a moron</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a longer fic and my first AU. Currently a WIP but I write fast, should be done within the week. There may be some smut, I haven't gotten that far so I can't say for sure. Not beta-ed, all mistakes are mine. No real triggers or angst. I like happy, fluffy stuff with glitter on it.

He was going to be late. Dean honked at the cars in front of him just to vent his frustration. The rain pattering on the windshield of the Impala seemed to be mocking him. Traffic inched forwards a couple more feet. He pulled out his cell to shoot Sam a text that he was stuck in traffic and would be late picking him up. Sam’s car was at Bobby’s shop, and it wouldn’t be ready for a couple more days, so Dean had kindly volunteered to chauffer his little brother to and from work to avoid Sam needing a rental. Slowly, the maze of cars started to move and he felt a weight lift. It was claustrophobic being surrounded by all those vehicles and he had felt trapped. 

He made one last turn and pulled up near the huge glass and steel building where Sam defended the downtrodden from injustice. He was always so proud of his brother, that he had worked his way from their pathetic beginnings and the crap parenting of John Winchester to become so successful. Not just successful, but righteous. Sam did good things for people. Dean just fixed cars, but his brother, his brother was someone to be admired. 

He snapped out of his reverie and put the car in park. Sam was not coming out. Maybe he figured Dean would be later and was waiting in his office. Dean flipped the collar of his jacket up and stepped out of the car. At least the rain had slowed to a fine mist. He rushed up to the glittering revolving doors, head down, and did not see the person coming out of the rotation until he plowed into him. A briefcase crashed onto the wet pavement and the other man dropped the umbrella he had partially opened. 

He put out a hand to steady the stranger “Oh wow, sorry ma…” Deans words died in his throat. His brain short circuited. All he could do was run through various names of Crayola crayons trying to match that fucking soul sucking shade of blue. Cornflower? Periwinkle? Who the hell had actual eyes that color? Apparently this dude. Who he was staring at and had been for several seconds, like a moron. 

“Umm, yeah, sorry..” he stumbled, looking away from those eyes to reach down and help the man gather his things. The stranger seemed to startle awake and began moving as well. 

“It is not of import, I am fine” he rumbled, and holy hell, did he gargle with rock salt? Dean handed him the umbrella and the man grabbed his briefcase. They both paused, as if there was some invisible tether connecting them. As if they both wanted to say something else. Then something shattered the magic bubble. The man popped his sensible navy umbrella open, gave Dean a nod and a half smile and OMG did he have perfect teeth, then took off in the direction of the parking garage.

Dean pretended to start back into the building but his eyes followed the stranger. He wore a tan trench coat, and had dark hair that stuck up in all directions. He was a little smaller than Dean, and those freaking eyes…Dean wanted to go buy a 100 count box of stupid crayons just to figure out the perfect name for that shade of blue. He spun through the glass doors into the lobby and caught sight of Sam coming off the elevator. 

“You ready man?” Sam asked, adjusting the shoulder strap of his briefcase. “Dean?”  


“Uh, yeah, lets go Sammy.” Dean shook his head to get his mind back on the present and mentally shoved mister blue eyed random guy aside.  
Sam slid into the passenger seat beside him and started rambling about some case involving wrongful eviction and how he had just gotten a new witness. Dean tried to stay with him as he maneuvered the car back to Sam’s apartment, but his brain kept wandering off. 

“Hey Sam, you know a guy works in your building, dark hair, blue eyes, tan trench coat?” he asked, hopefully in a tone that suggested nonchalance. 

Sam paused and seemed to think for a moment. “Sounds like the new administrative guy they hired. He started maybe a week ago? Kinda quiet but really efficient. Wait..why are you asking?”

“I mighta bumped into him as I was going in and he was coming out, I made him drop his stuff, I just wondered who he was…” Dean shrugged, still going for a casual, could care less tone. Sam wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed and he turned his full attention on his brother. 

“Dean, no.”

“What no, I didn’t do anything Sam!” Dean was indignant. 

“I know exactly what this is. You are so freaking transparent. Like I can’t spot your type a mile away!? Your obsession with brunettes? He is like your ideal man in a nutshell. Not happening Dean. He’s a nice guy”

“What the hell Samantha, what is that supposed to mean? I’m not a nice guy? Thanks a lot. Sheesh!!!” 

Sam shot him a bitchface that said “You are so full of shit” which may or may not have been correct, but he stopped talking. They pulled up to Sam’s apartment, but as Sam moved to get out of the car, Dean couldn’t resist one last question.

“What’s his name?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean. So Dean huffed and rolled his eyes. “Admin trenchcoat guy, Sam, what’s his name?”

Sam snorted. “Of course you have absolutely NO interest in him, Dean. Because you always want to know the names of random people in my office.”

“Come ON Sam!”

“It’s really unusual, probably the only reason I remember it, honestly. Castiel.” Sam’s thoughtful gaze became stern. “I mean it Dean, I know how you are. Don’t be an ass, ok?”  


“Ok, ok, don’t get your panties in a twist. I will be thoughtful and chivalrous. I promise.” he made a cross my heart motion. Sam rolled his eyes and got out of the car. “Wanna do lunch tomorrow, Sam?” He yelled out the window after his brother. Sam stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, smirking. 

“ Suuuure, which would have nothing to do with a certain blue eyed coworker of mine?”

“Is that a yes?” 

“Fine, but you’re paying.” The words floated behind Sam as he entered his building. Dean did a silent fist pump before he pulled away from the curb towards his own apartment. “Castiel” he murmured. Not a name he had heard before. Seemed strangely appropriate for a man whose eyes seemed to defy the laws of nature. 

Dean woke up in an oddly cheery mood before his alarm clock the next day. He needed to be at Bobby’s by 8 then he was popping out to meet Sammy for lunch and maybe, hopefully get another look at mr blue eyed and gorgeous. He took his time in the shower, and actually spent a few minutes on hair product and picking out jeans with less than five holes in them. If he tried too hard, Bobby and Sammy would pick up on it and tease him mercilessly, so he had to go for kind of made an effort but nothing too out of the ordinary. If he chose a dark t shirt that hugged his body in a way he knew worked well for him, well that was just coincidence. He shrugged on his leather jacket, snatched up his keys and bounced out the door travel mug of coffee in hand. He had high hopes for today. 

High hopes that apparently were going to be dashed to pieces. “Bobby, what the hell, I’m meeting Sam for lunch and you know he needs ride home, we still have his car!” Dean was not whining. He was just stating his dissatisfaction. Loudly. And in what might be mistaken for a petulant tone. 

“Look Dean, I can pick Sam up from work later, but I need you to be here. I have to go get this car. The guy is loaded and is a pretty influential customer. Big family money and he collects classic cars. Do I need to explain it to you in small words why we could use a regular customer like that?”

Dean sighed, but nodded, leaning back against the hood of Sammy’s car. Bobby was right. Some rich playboy with a classic car collection was exactly the kind of customer they could use. Business wasn’t bad, but it could always be better and he owed Bobby. “Okay, lemme just call Sam and let him know.”

He dug his cell out of his jacket pocket and dialed his brother while he peered under the hood of Sam’s old Firebird. It rang. And rang. No answer. He thought about texting, but sometimes Sam didn’t check his phone, so he decided to go for the office number. The secretary, he thinks her name was Ruby, would get him a message. He was very surprised though, when instead of a female voice a rumbling male voice answered the main line. “Novak and Milton law associates, may I help you?” 

Dean paused, because damn whoever this guy was he should be a phone sex operator. Then he remembered words, oh yeah, shit he needed words. “Umm, yeah, my name is Dean Winchester, my brother is Sam Winchester and I was supposed to meet him for lunch, but I can’t make it. I couldn’t get through to his cell and just was hoping someone could give him a message.”

The deep voice hummed for a second then said “Certainly, I will be sure to let Mr. Winchester know. Have a nice day, Dean.” And wow, somehow the way he said Dean’s name went straight to a naughty place in his brain that wondered what it would sound like if he screamed Dean’s name, and dammit, again with the words! 

“Uh, great, thanks ummm…” he left off wordlessly, fishing for a name.

“Castiel.”

Oh shit!!! It was him! The dude! With the eyes and the oh shit! He needed to make his brain work. “Thanks, Cas.” he said, smiling at the phone. 

“Cas?”

Oh crap, he was offending him already and he hadn’t even met him yet! Not properly. “Oh, uh, sorry. Kind of a habit of mine, won’t happen again.”

“No, it’s ok.” Dean though he could hear a smile over the line, which was kind of crazy, but made his stomach feel warm and fluttery in a decidedly not masculine way. “I don’t mind. Better than what my brother calls me.”

“Which is what?” Dean chuckled as he asked the question. 

“Uh-uh. Not sharing that bit of information” Castiel, Cas, laughed and it was a beautiful, rich sound that Dean wanted to hear again.

“Alright, fine.” Dean was still smiling, but also starting to realize that this conversation had become unnecessarily lengthy and was on it’s way to possibly becoming awkward, so he decided to end it. Especially since Bobby was giving him a very strange look. “Anyway, thanks for giving Sam the message, Cas. Maybe I’ll talk to you again sometime.” He mentally kicked himself for coming off like a 13 year old girl. 

“Maybe. Have a good day. ” Castiel replied, and hung up. Dean looked down at his phone with confusion. So the guy was insanely attractive, sounded like he worked a sex line, and was reasonably personable? What the hell? He has to be married. Or straight. Or somehow not available. There was no way a guy like this just up and popped out of nowhere and was actually someone he could have. Dean’s luck never worked out that way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So things are happening. Probably smut next chapter.

Sam frowned at the laptop in front of him, as if glaring could make the error message disappear when he heard a soft knock on the door to his office. “Come in.” He grumbled, venting some of the annoyance he felt for the computer at whomever was on the other side of the door. Blue eyes and dark hair peeked in. “Oh hey, Castiel. Sorry, come on in. My computer is just acting up and I am getting ready to toss the stupid thing out the window. “ He gave a weak smile. 

Castiel opened the door the rest of the way and offering him a smile in return. “I can take a look at if you would like, but I just came by to give you a phone message. Your brother Dean called and said he can’t make it for lunch.”

Sam face flickered with surprise. “Huh, must be important, the whole lunch thing was his idea!” 

Castiel’s face showed a flash of something, but it was gone before Sam could identify it. He turned to go, but before he closed the door behind him he said, softly, “He seemed pleasant on the phone.”

Sam couldn’t hide the grin that snuck onto his face. Dean being pleasant? Huh. He pulled his cell phone out of his desk drawer and saw the missed call. He punched Dean’s number. 

“OW…son of a…” Dean growled, banging his head on the hood of Sam’s car when the phone in his pocket went off. It was that obnoxious Call Me Maybe song that he assigned to Sam just because it annoyed the shit out of his little brother. “What, Sammy!?” He grumbled into the phone, rubbing his head. 

“So no lunch, what happened? Your crush object delivered the message, by the way.”

“He is not my crush object, Sam! Bobby had to go out and do something and needed me to hold down the shop. Wait…he delivered the message? What did he say about me? “

Sam snorted. “Yeah, totally NOT a crush, Dean. Come on, you met the guy for like two seconds, and you’re acting like you’re 12. Not like you at all. What’s the deal man?”

Dean hesitated. He wasn’t sure what the deal was. There was just something about this guy. He couldn’t explain it, because it wouldn’t make any sense. He just felt like something was right about him. In that kind of romcom, mean to be, bullshit kind of way. None of which he intended to tell Sam. “ I just think he’s hot, Sam. And like, nice.” 

He could almost hear Sam rolling his eyes. “Ok, yeah, right, whatever. So no lunch, how am I getting home tonight? “

“Bobby said he can pick you up. Wanna go for beer and burgers later? The Roadhouse? I’ll meet you around 6.”

“Sure, I could use a wind down and I can walk there from my place. This week has sucked. Thank God It’s Friday, right?”

“Cool, see ya Sam.” 

Dean wrapped up at the garage a little after five and gave himself a quick once over. His hair was wilted, he had engine grease on his shirt, and some on his cheek. He looked like a grubby mechanic, not that it mattered. It was only Sam. He did wet a paper towel and wipe down his face and scrub his hands, but he was too tired to bother changing or caring beyond that. He slid behind the wheel of his baby and rolled out of the parking lot, anticipating Ellen’s amazing burgers and cherry pie. 

The Roadhouse was hopping when he pulled up, but it was Friday night after all and Ellen did make the best damn hamburgers in the history of like ever. He swung through the front door like he owned the place because, well, let’s face it, he was there all the time and Ellen loved him so he might as well own it. He spotted Ellen right away behind the bar. Jo was serving a table in the corner. A quick glance around produced a complete lack of Sam, so he assumed he beat the little bitch here. He headed up to the bar and grinned at Ellen.

“Hey, Sammy not here yet is he?”

“Haven’t seen him. Nice of you two to make an appearance. What’s it been two weeks? Would it have killed you to stop by?”

“Awww, just busy. You know Bobby loves kicking my ass at work. “

“Speak of the devil, here comes that giant brother of yours! Who’s he got with him?”

Dean frowned, spinning around to look, Sam hadn’t said anyone else was coming. He scrambled to pick his jaw off the floor and recollect his brain cells because damn it all if it wasn’t THE GUY. Castiel. Cas. And he looked so much better up close and not running away in the rain. His trench coat was slung over one arm and his white shirtsleeves were rolled up. His tie was pulled loose and was the perfect shade of blue to match his eyes. His hair was stuck up at odd angles like he just rolled out of bed. He had a hint of five o clock shadow and lips that were just begging to be bitten. Dean might have just lost all blood flow to his brain, because he had not been able to say a word in reply to Ellen. Sam was waving to him, with a small quirk on his lips that said that he knew exactly what was going through Dean’s head. Dean managed to wave back, feeling a few sparks of brain activity that allowed him to turn back to Ellen who was also smirking at him. What the hell? Could every one freaking mind read or was he really that obvious?

“Uh, coworker of Sam’s” He muttered, taking a huge swallow of beer and refusing to look back at the two men that were maneuvering their way toward the bar. 

“Hey, Dean!” He felt Sam’s giant hand on his shoulder. Swearing silently, Dean turned to fix his brother with a smile. He really wanted to shoot him a nasty face, but that probably wouldn’t make a good impression on tall dark and gorgeous and that would diminish his chances with said attractive man and Dean suspected he was pretty built under all those clothes and.. Wait..what? Back the train up, tiger. 

“Heya, Sammy!” He suppressed a smile at Sam’s glower. He hated being called Sammy in front of anyone he knew professionally. “Wasn’t expecting you to bring company.” He gestured his head towards Castiel, who was shuffling his feet like he was nervous. 

“Well Bobby was running late, and Castiel offered me a ride home, so I asked if he would like to join us.”

Dean looked at the other man and offered what he hoped was a winning grin, then stuck out his hand. Blue eyes met his green ones and the man smiled, extending his hand. “Hello Dean. It is nice to meet you. “

“Well we kinda met already, if you count running each other over in the rain as a meeting.” Dean laughed, taking the man’s hand. 

Castiel’s grip was sure, and firm, and warm, and Dean felt a lightness fill him. “I thought that was you.” Cas was still smiling, and still holding onto his hand. Dean was aware that this should be awkward, so he released the hand, feeling a stab of regret at the lack of contact.  
“Yeah, that was me. “

“So what are we drinking, fellas?” Ellen broke in. 

“Beer for me. Cas?” Sam spoke up. 

“Beer is fine.” Castiel responded. 

“Why don’t you boys grab a table, I’ll send Jo over in a few” Ellen offered as she reached in the cooler for their beers. 

“Sure thing!” Dean retorted and lead the way to the table he and Sammy usually occupied. “Ellen makes the best burgers, Cas. You have to have one.” 

“I will. I very much enjoy hamburgers, Dean.” His words were overly formal, and should have been odd, but some how they fit him as did his baggy trench coat and skewed tie. 

“Oh, by the way, your car should be done tomorrow, Sam. I’m going to go in for a couple hours in the morning and finish up.”

“Dean, you need to stop going in on the weekends, you know you don’t have to. Why can’t Garth or Adam do it?” Sam admonished. 

“Because it’s your car, Sam! And I want it done right so I have to do it myself.” 

Sam sighed. “Really Dean? You work way too hard.” He turned to Castiel. “My brother thinks that he is the only mechanic in the history of ever who can work on my car. Or his car. Or any car.”

“Hey….Baby is a special case. No one else touches her.” Dean retorted.

“Baby?” Cas raised an eyebrow. Dean flushed. 

“My car.” Sam was struggling and failing not to laugh at him. 

“What kind of car?” Cas had put his beer down and was looking at Dean with this quizzical gaze, head tilted slightly as if whatever Dean was about to say was the most fascinating thing in the world. It was pretty unnerving. 

“Umm, 67 Chevy Impala. She was my dad’s.” Dean looked at the table and rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, not wanting to meet that intense stare. 

“I would love to see her sometime.” Castiel offered. Dean ventured a glance up.

“Really? Ok, sure. She’s actually out in the lot I can show you after we eat.”

“Speaking of eating, you guys want the usual?” He heard Jo speak and jumped. 

“Dammit Jo, you need a freaking bell, kid! “

“Well if you weren’t so busy flirting you would have heard me, jerk!”

“What!? I wasn’t,….huh?” Dean spluttered refusing to look at Castiel. 

“Yeah, sure.” Jo winked at Cas. “They always get burgers, you want the same?” she asked Castiel. 

“Yes, I would.” Dean was still pointedly not looking at Cas. He turned his undivided attention to his beer bottle as if it held the secret of eternal youth and picked a bit at the label. Sam made a noise in his throat, and Dean glared up at him. 

“I am going to go use the facilities” Sam announced, making a show of unfolding his giraffe-like frame from the chair. 

Dean continued picking at the label on his bottle. He was unsure how to proceed, he didn’t have any idea which way Cas swung, if he was even single and or interested. Usually asking was not a big deal to him, but in this case it somehow was. He felt like he would really be devastated if he found out that Cas was off limits. He was finding he didn’t really want to know, as much as he really needed to find out. Suddenly his beer was removed from his hands by long, slender surprisingly agile fingers. 

“Flirting?” It was just one word, but Dean could hear the question Castiel was asking. Dean did not look up, just lasered his eyes onto a nick in the wooden table top. 

“Uh yeah, just ignore Jo. I’m sure you have somebody waiting at home for you, I didn’t mean for anyone to make you uncomfortable or anything. She was just giving me a hard time. She knows my type..…” he stopped and almost choked, he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud but now it was out and hanging in the air like a tangible thing. No take backs. 

He steeled himself and looked up, figuring if Castiel looked too horrified he could maybe find a way to backpedal. I mean, not all guys would be thrilled to find out that their dinner partner preferred men and was possibly interested in them. Sam was straight as an arrow, but Dean was flexible and he found that in recent years, he flexed more towards men than women. Sam was also right about the dark hair thing. Give him a blue eyed brunette and he was pretty much guaranteed to be a goner. Which is exactly what he was.  
What he did not expect was to meet blue eyes that were blown dark and looked like they wanted to consume him from the inside out. Castiel’s bottom lip was between his teeth and it was doing all kinds of things to Dean’s concentration. He released his teeth, freeing his lip which was now red and spit slick. Dean wanted to bite it again, himself, and see what Cas tasted like. Before he could complete that thought process, Castiel spoke. 

“Your type, huh?” He paused, as if considering, then seemed to very intentionally run his tongue over his bitten bottom lip. “Interesting. Would you like to know what my type is, Dean?”

“Uhhh…” Dean was having trouble making sentences because that tongue and then there was a hand on his knee and his pants were becoming uncomfortable.

Castiel leaned in very close, because apparently personal space was irrelevant. His lips almost brushed Dean’s ear and he could feel breath. “You.”

Dean is pretty sure he stopped breathing. Cas leaned back and removed his hand from Dean’s knee. Went back to his beer as if he had not just sent a jolt of electricity through Dean’s core. As if Dean was not dying to grab him and bend him over the table in the middle of the restaurant. Sam made his way back from the bathroom at that very moment, then Jo arrived with their food. 

They ate mostly in silence. Dean didn’t talk because he didn’t trust himself to say anything that wasn’t completely nonsensical like “You, Me, Fuck, Go,” and he wanted to maintain some semblance of his dignity. 

Sam seemed to sense the tension, because he ate quicker than usual, and as soon as he finished, he stood. “So, I’m just gonna walk home from here, you guys feel free to, you know, whatever.” He winked at Dean, not at all discreetly. Dean felt his face heat and knew he was blushing. Castiel seemed totally unaffected, bastard, and just nodded, bringing his beer up to his lips in a way that could not be legal. Should not be legal. He should be arrested. With handcuffs. And Dean was gone. He muttered something that he thinks sounded like “See ya Sam” then closed his eyes tightly and focused on his breathing. Forced himself to calm the fuck down because he was getting way ahead of himself.

He managed to reign in his hormones and cracked his eyes back open. Castiel was grinning at him, beer bottle poised near his lips. “What’s funny?” Dean asked. 

“Nothing.” Cas shrugged. “You looked like you were thinking awful hard there.”

“Actually I was trying to stop thinking.” Dean retorted, shooting a look that he knew would convey exactly what he had been thinking about. Despite the bravado, he caught a hint of a blush on Castiel’s cheeks. Not quite so immune as he pretended to be. Fascinating. Dean could work with that. 

Dean leaned in a little, not missing that Castiel’s breath caught for a second as Dean invaded his space. “ Wanna go see my car?” he whispered, letting the air from his lips ghost over Castiel’s cheek. 

“Of course, I would love to Dean.” The words were formal and coherent, but they trembled just a bit. It was enough. Dean knew. He knew that he could have this. Have Cas. And he wanted it. Dean left more money than he needed to on the table for the bill and the tip, snagged his jacket and looked over to see Cas collecting his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. Without a word, he started toward the door. He didn't have to look back, he knew Castiel was following.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the sexual tension must be resolved.

The air when they broke through the door was cool, and felt soothing on Dean’s warm cheeks. The sky was clear and the stars glimmered above him. He felt rather than saw Castiel beside him, the warmth of his body radiating. Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he let his fingers reach for Castiel’s and laced them together. The other man did not pull away. Dean led him, pulling gently towards his black Impala. 

“So this is baby.” Dean made a broad gesture with his free hand. Cas seemed to ponder the car, head tilting slightly. 

“It suits you.” Castiel announced, as if he had made some kind of grand judgment. He withdrew his hand from Dean’s and with a feather light touch ran his fingers over the hood. It was intimate and reverent. Dean watched him, bent slightly over the car, face mostly shadowed, dark hair glinting in the moonlight. Something inside him broke, and he felt all of his restraint fall away. His emotions tangled with his desire and he no longer had full control of his body. 

Before he even realized he was moving he had reached forward, hooked an arm around Castiel’s waist to spin him and backed the smaller man up against the car. He framed Castiel with his arms, one to either side, palms flat on the glossy black paint. Their faces were close, so close, and Castiel’s eyes were wide, Cas partially seated on the hood. 

“What are you doing, Dean?” Cas’s words were shaky, his breath catching. 

“I don’t know.” Dean answered honestly. “I just know I want you.” And with that he pressed his mouth to Castiel’s. It was firm, but not harsh, warm and wet. Cas froze for a heartbeat before relaxing into Dean and allowing his lips to press back. Dean lifted his arms off the car and wrapped them around the other, man, running his hands up Castiel’s back, trying to meld their bodies. Cas leaned into him, sliding his arms up over Deans shoulders to twine around his neck, and into his hair. 

Dean felt a moan rising in the back of his throat, he slid a hand down to Cas’s ass and pushed their groins together. He wedged one leg between Castiel’s and felt the other man responding. Cas whimpered and they broke apart for air, bodies still enmeshed. 

“Come home with me.” Dean whispered, his face partly buried in the curve of other man’s neck. Castiel simply nodded. Dean fished his keys out and unlocked the car. Cas crawled into the passenger side, and Dean got a good look at him in the interior light as he slid behind the wheel. Castiel’s lips were red and swollen, his hair was a mess, and his cheeks were flushed. Beautiful blue eyes were nearly engulfed with the black of his pupils. He looked amazing and wrecked and Dean wanted to see him like this every day forever. Dean was pretty sure he looked similarly debauched. He started the car. 

It wasn’t a long drive, maybe 10 minutes in decent traffic, but somehow it seemed to take an hour while he tried to keep his eyes on the road instead of on his passenger. His very attractive passenger who was resting a hand on his thigh. 

“You know, I really didn’t think I would ever see you again.” Castiel murmured softly in the silence.

“Huh..what?” Dean was a master of being articulate. Yep. 

“When you bumped into me yesterday. I wondered how fate could be so cruel to present me with someone I could never forget but would probably never see again.” 

“Me? But I’m nothing special.” Dean was perplexed. Sure he would remember Cas. Cas was amazing, but Dean was just well, Dean. 

Castiel looked at him as if he had just uttered the dumbest words in existence. “Are you kidding me, Dean? You’re beautiful. Your eyes are like a spring meadow and your smile lights up your entire face. How can you think you aren’t special?” 

Dean turned beet red. “I’m just a mechanic, Cas. Sam is the one who really made something of himself.”

“Because of you. Sam loves you and he told me everything you did, everything you sacrificed for him, still sacrifice for him. You have a generous soul, Dean.” 

Dean felt a lump fill his throat as he pulled the car into his designated spot beside his apartment building. He put the car in park then he turned and grabbed Cas by the lapels of his coat and crushed their lips together. It was hard and slick and their teeth clicked but it was also sweet and good and tinged with salt from the tears Dean was absolutely not crying. After a moment the kiss softened and Dean gently let their lips separate, resting his forehead against Castiel’s. “Lets go up.” He said softly. 

Castiel walked behind him as Dean fumbled with his keys, then followed him through the door. Dean shut it behind them and tossed his keys on the counter. They looked at each other for a long moment, eyes speaking in a way that required no words. Castiel was the one who broke the moment, moving forward to place his hands on Dean’s chest. That was all it took. 

Their mouths met in a fever of need. Hands flew, pushing off jackets, sliding under clothing. Dean grabbed that crooked tie and tugged, walking backwards and pressing sloppy kisses at Castiel’s lips. He stopped short when the backs of his knees hit the bed and went down onto his back, pulling Castiel with him. “Off” Dean ordered, gesturing to the tie. Cas loosened it and pulled it over his head. He started to undo the buttons on his shirt as well, but Dean batted them away and took over. Dean wanted to be the one to expose Castiel’s skin. He slipped the buttons slowly, relishing the moment. When he reached the last one, he slipped both hands over Castiel’s shoulders under the white cotton and pushed the shirt away. 

Dean had been right. Oh so right. He was built. He was perfect. Lean, and firm, and tan. He wanted to touch. He wanted to taste. So he did. He latched onto the curve when Castiel’s neck met his shoulder and sucked while he slid his hands down the other man’s chest, traced his ribs with his fingers, smoothed back up over the planes of his back. Castiel moaned and arched under his touch. Dean felt a fierce stab of want and realized that they were still wearing way too many clothes. He scooted farther back onto the bed and pulled his own shirt over his head. 

Castiel sat back on his heels and his eyes raked over Dean’s body hungrily, hands tentatively reaching out, as if wanting to touch but unsure if that was allowed. “Dammit, come here, Cas!” Dean growled. And Cas did, he put those nimble hands to work over Dean’s skin and the fire they left in their wake burned white and pure. Dean reached down for Castiel’s belt buckle then paused, met the other man’s eyes, asking permission. Castiel kissed him in answer, crashed into him, licking into his mouth and sucking out his breath. Dean fumbled the belt free, and popped the button with one hand. Then finally he was able to wiggle the zipper loose and slide a hand down the front of Castiel’s pants.

Cas gasped into Dean’s mouth and whined “Deeaaan!” 

“I think these need to go, Cas.” Dean murmured. Cas obviously agreed and he wiggled free of his slacks, pulling off his shoes and socks as well. Dean huffed a laugh realizing he also still had his boots on and bent over to pull them off. When he moved to straighten back up he felt warm bare skin against his back and hands slipped over his belly to pop the button of his jeans. Castiel pressed wet kisses to the back of his neck and nibbled at his ear. Dean stifled a moan as he shimmied out of his own pants. 

He grabbed the smaller man around the waist and they toppled together onto the bed. Dean crowded on top of Castiel, burying his face in the other man’s neck, licking and sucking and biting down his chest. The sounds Cas made were intoxicating and Dean wanted to hear more. He ground his pelvis down and was rewarded with yet another moan. They still wore boxers and the friction through the fabric was so good. Dean pressed down again, biting his lip to keep sound from escaping.  
Cas palmed his ass and pushed up, sending another throb of pleasure through Dean's veins. “Cas…I oh, GOD…I wanna feel you!”

Cas moaned against Dean’s throat. “Fuck me, Dean. I want you to. Please.” Dean let loose a sound that resembled a growl and yanked Castiel’s underwear off, then his own. He leaned over and grappled around in the drawer to his bedside table and came up with a small tube of lube and a foil packet. Castiel huffed a laugh.  
“You’re prepared.” But Dean could sense a bit of a question there, a shred of worry. Dean cupped his jaw and pressed a trail of kisses up his cheek. 

 

“I haven’t done this in a very long time, Cas, and I never bring home people I just met like this. It’s just, I feel like you and I…it’s something I can’t really explain. But this isn‘t a one time thing. It can‘t be.” He met Castiel’s eyes which were deep and dark and glittering and beautiful. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, his slid his hand down, teasing with his fingers but not pressing in, and felt Cas gasp and arch. “You want this, Cas?” 

“Yes! Oh please, yes!” Cas moaned. Dean slicked up his fingers and went to work. Castiel was gorgeous like this, legs spread wide, writhing on Dean’s fingers. Dean felt his own neglected erection throb, and loosely fisted himself with his free hand to ease the tension. 

“Dammit, Dean! I’m ready!” Castiel’s words were breathy and desperate. 

“Turn over.” Dean instructed, pulling his fingers free. 

“No. Like this. I …I wanna see you!” Castiel whined. Dean nodded wordlessly, because he had no words. He lifted Castiel’s legs over his shoulders. Castiel grabbed for the foil packet and tore it open with his teeth, then handed it to Dean. Dean rolled on the condom, slicked himself up and took a deep breath as he pressed in. Castiel hissed, but nodded at Dean to keep going. Slowly, he inched forward until he bottomed out and oh god, the heat! He took a few steadying breaths, calming himself down and letting Castiel adjust. Cas rocked his hips, just slightly, in encouragement, and Dean began to move. 

The only sounds were of bodies in unison. Skin on skin, the slick of sweat, heavy breaths and moans of Oh god, Yes! Please! More! Faster! The headboard began to thump as Dean picked up his pace. Cas let loose a scream when Dean shifted and hit that spot, so of course Dean did it again. And again until Castiel’s voice was ragged and the only word he could make was Dean’s name over and over. Dean felt his release coiling and he could tell Cas was close, so close. Dean reached down to grasp his partner’s erection and started to stroke him in time with his thrusts. It only took a few movements of his hand before he felt warm white spill over his fingers and Castiel arched into a final wordless cry. Dean followed behind him, Castiel’s name on his lips. 

Dean slumped down onto Cas, trying to catch his breath, his face pressed into the other man’s shoulder. Castiel’s breath ruffled Dean’s hair as they let their heartbeats slow. Dean gathered what little muscle control he had left and pulled out, rolling to the other side of the bed as he did so. He slipped the rubber off, tied it, and tossed it in the direction of the trash can. Cas was still lying on his back, and his eyes were closed. 

“You asleep already, Cas?” Dean asked, chuckling Cas smiled, and slowly opened his eyes. Dean offered his discarded shirt and Cas used it to wipe off in one broad swipe before rolling onto his side and propping himself on one elbow. 

“No. Just trying to memorize everything about tonight.” Cas replied. 

“Trying? Should I be insulted? I think that would be hard to forget.” Dean gave a cocky smile. 

Cas reached out and brushed his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I could never forget. Not you. Not ever.” Then he scooted over and curled himself into Dean’s side, one arm sliding across his chest. “Lets go to sleep, kay?” 

Dean reached down and pulled the blankets over the two of them and wrapped one arm loosely around Castiel. He pressed a kiss to that wild mop of dark hair and felt something light flutter in his chest. Suddenly he heard his phone pinging a text notification. He reached down beside the bed grabbing for his jeans, careful not to jostle Cas too much. It was from Sam. 

“I am assuming you are not alone and also assuming that you will be busy for the rest of the weekend so I called Bobby and told him to have Garth finish my car. Be good to Cas.” 

Yeah, so maybe his brother was pretty awesome. Not that Dean would ever tell him that. Dean threw the phone back down and snuggled into Castiel's warmth. He lazily wondered if he had stuff to make pancakes, and if Cas liked pancakes, before he let himself drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this is my very first go at writing any type of smut, so be gentle. Update: See part two of the series for a continuation of this relationship.


End file.
